and this is only part one of five


Title: Heartbeat
Pairing: Josh Dun/Reader, Tyler Joseph/Reader
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Public shenanigans, minor daddy kink, shades of fuckboy Tyler, fluffy Josh, all kinds of stuff (and it’s only gonna get worse from here)
A/N: The sugar daddy fic has arrived. This is PAINFULLY long (8k words, god help me) This is part one of (probably) four/five parts. I’m super hyped about this, but I’m concerned it’s gonna be shit, lmfao. Anyway, I hope you guys don’t totally hate this.

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The Contest-Part 16

To celebrate Supernatural’s 15th season, the producers have decided to hold a contest to cast an unknown in a recurring role as Sam’s rumored love interest.  They are doing open casting calls all over the country.  Your best friend Nikki wants to go and she drags you along.

A/N: My inspiration for Nikki is the one and only red, @oriona75.  So I am actually telling two stories here, Jared and Readers, and Sam and Gemini’s.  It flips back and forth, so try and keep up! :)

Characters: Jared Padalecki, Reader, Best friend Nikki(OC) Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Mark Sheppard, PA Emily (OC) Cliff, Other Supernatural cast and crew

Master List

Part 1 (all parts are linked)

The five of us ended up at one of the casinos on the strip.  Don’t ask me which one, because the next day it would all be a blur.  Jensen bought the first round of shots and we toasted the happy couple.  

“I still think you guys are nuts and totally deserve each other.”  He said before downing his shot.

“You call that a toast, Jay?”  I commented with a roll of my eyes. I signaled for the bartender to bring another round.  I raised my glass and everyone followed suit.  “Here’s to Nikki and Misha.  She is officially your problem now.”

Everyone laughed as we downed our shots.  Nikki made a face and gave hers to Misha to finish. “I’d like to remember my wedding night, thank you very much.”

Then a group of fans recognized us and bought us a round.  Things started to get a little fuzzy after that.  I remember Misha reminding us we all had panels in the morning. 

 Jensen, who didn’t have any official duties until the Saturday Night Special the next night, said it was early yet and ordered another round.  I remember Nikki and I dancing with a bunch of fans who sent over a congratulatory round when they found out Nikki and Misha had eloped.

Jared and Misha finally came over and pulled us from the dance floor.  “Come on Dancing Queen, time to go.”  Jared told me as I stumbled into his arms.

“But I’m having funnn!” I giggled.  “Hey Mish, guess what?” I whispered drunkenly.  “You and Nikki got married!”

I don’t remember the ride back to the hotel at all.

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Around five in the morning, the phone begins to ring in the empty office.
No one picks up. It stops. Then it rings again. Then it stops again.
On and on again, for at least five times. When the calls finally stop for good, the office is darker and murkier than ever, heavy with the weight of what the person who ought to have occupied it has ended up ignoring.


Only a few policemen are on patrol. (Unwillingly so.)
None of them are at the part of the city where it matters.


Traffic goes in and out.


“My friend, ah - you must be new around here, we need to look at your driving licence - come this way, you will walk now.”

Classic exchange, the price to pay for having foreign numberplates.
The policeman takes the money, smiles, and waves the car past. This is not the first time he has begun that exact script, not the first time he has accepted a bribe, and he’s not going to stop any time soon. 

The sun is beginning to rise. The wind is cool and sweet.
He draws in a pleased breath and tightens his jacket.


Where is the patrol supervisor? - Nowhere, that’s where.
At a late-night party shouldn’t count as being on the job.


It’s a lovely Saturday morning. Half past eight, taxi outside headquarters.
Louis Brodinski stumbles out with a stab wound on his arm, and collapses.

anonymous asked:

Why do you think that Negan isn't a serial killer?

Well, according to the FBI, to be classified as a serial killer, one needs to kill at least three people with a cooling off period between each murder.  The cooling off period is usually six months to a year, but it can be as short as one month. I mean, Negan may very well be a serial killer, but we all know that Glenn and Abraham are his only confirmed human kills. I know you didn’t ask for the mass murderer part, but I’ll explain anyways. To be a mass murderer, one has killed at least five people at a single location. People like Team Family and the Governor actually classify as this. 

He’s Dangerous, But Not Around You: Part 3

A/N: This sort of ends abruptly, but if I didn’t end it here the imagine would have been extremely long so I’ll be posting part 4 within the next three days x 

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio

Three months after Harry called off his relationship with Y/n, it was his birthday, and just like every other year for the past five, the boys decided to spend his birthday weekend at Louis’ family lake house. It was one of the few times a year they’d go- only saved for special occasions. It’s secluded, far from the city, but close enough so that it’s not too much out of their way.

Their tradition when it comes to Harry’s birthday weekend has remained the same for years now. A bonfire, a couple of poker games, countless amounts of beer, and occasional midnight skinny dipping. However, this year, the only change in tradition is Y/n not being there.

The second Harry steps foot out of his car, the whole idea of spending his birthday without Y/n makes him feel sick to his stomach. This was their favorite place to be together. They didn’t know why, but something about the privacy and the exclusiveness of it enhanced their relationship in unimaginable ways. They have had many occasions where they would flee from London without a word and spend a couple days alone here. 

The guys scurry out of the car in excitement, absolutely stoked to be back in the grand Tomlinson lake house. Harry sighs, slamming his car door shut before half-heartedly making his way inside.

He can’t blame their excitement when it came to the celebration weekend, however, they hadn’t seemed to notice how off Harry became the first couple of hours upon their arrival. But what else did he expect? He didn’t tell them, he didn’t tell them any of it. He didn’t want to. He knew they knew, anyways, but he had constantly beat himself up, blaming himself for destroying the one thing in his life he felt was genuinely worth fighting for. If he had told them what he did, he would never hear the end of it. He didn’t need anyone else to remind him of how much he had fucked up.

But ever since Y/n had left, something in him changed. He had no desire to fight anymore. Three days after he broke it off, he was worse than ever. Getting himself into numerous fights multiple times a day. It was his way of coping the loss of her, the loss of his only true humanity. However, when the fourth day came, and Harry started to really understand the fact that he was never going to see Y/n again, was when the pain really set in. He felt himself suffocating in a horrendous amount of guilt. 

She had tried so hard, she pushed him harder than anybody else had. Nobody put as much faith in him as she had. She stayed with him in times he truly didn’t deserve it. Hell, there were even days where she was so mad at him that all she could do was yell and yell and yell, and even then she still slept in the same bed as him. He couldn’t live with letting all of that go- letting her go- so he decided to prove himself wrong

It was the biggest fight of his life, the one against himself; when half of him wanted to inflict his pain onto other people and the other half wanting desperately to change himself for the sake of his relationship with Y/n. But he knew he was stronger than the monster inside of him, even though he believed he was weaker. What made him strong was Y/n’s relationship with him, he would stop at nothing to get her back.

It didn’t take Y/n more than a couple days to tell Zayn what had happened. He called her, asking what was going on since Harry had been a complete wreck with no sign of her in his life. She explained, in the best that she could between her harsh sobs and broken whimpers that Harry had left her. He broke up with her, tried to convince her that they didn’t belong together, and eventually confessed that he wasn’t willing to change for her. 

Y/n made him promise not to tell anybody else because she felt that this was Harry’s responsibility, not anybody else. Of course, Zayn kept his promise and never said a word about it to anyone. 

The rest of the guys tried to get it out of him, though. They never forced it, but occasionally mentioned her to see what he would say or do, but he just ignored them. The mention of her name killed him on the inside, and he, truthfully, still couldn’t face the reality that they aren’t together anymore.

To say the guys have been concerned for him is an understatement. Yeah, he’s stopped fighting, but he’s still not the same Harry he was when he was with Y/n. He’s constantly thinking, his mind always somewhere not where it’s supposed to be. He drinks more, too, which used to spike up his anger, but now only spikes up his sadness. He has no motivation to do anything besides stay in his house and dwell on the guilt he’s carried.

Getting him to the lake house is one of their ways of getting him to heal. They just don’t know how much this place kills him, though. God, he can’t even look at a single square inch of it without seeing her in his head. How the hell is he going to get through the weekend?

The boys begin to notice how hurt Harry is when he begins to prepare for the bonfire they planned on having later that night. This is Harry’s first birthday after his break up with Y/n, and instead of telling them how truly heartbreaking it was for him, he avoided that topic of conversation completely. He was already depressed enough, he didn’t need to bury himself in it on his own birthday.

While Harry sets up the firewood needed for the bonfire, he’s distant. He’s distracted, not consuming himself in any of the boys’ conversations. They know Y/n’s already on his mind, she’s the only one who gets him daydreaming.

Harry sighs, lifting heavy piles of wood and constructing them into a setup for later. He’s finished now, has been finished for a while, but he just can’t stop. All he can think about is how Y/n isn’t with him, how she’s probably in her new home, sulking, hating him for ruining her life. It’s his birthday, and she probably hates him.

He sighs, placing his hands on his knees and leaning forward, eyes trained on the ground. He just can’t get her out of his head, no matter how much he tries to distract himself, almost every waking moment he’s thinking about the first time they met.

They were at a party Zayn’s aunt decided to host. It was a casual-formal event, just something special for her close friends to feel welcomed to upon their return to London after being in the states for a while.

Zayn was, obviously, invited. His aunt even insisted on him bringing his best friends, which he probably would have done anyways because he wasn’t too familiar with the family the party was for. The only member he’s ever really talked to was Y/n. She was super shy, very introverted, but was extremely sweet nonetheless. She had talked to Zayn a couple times when they stayed at his aunt’s house simultaneously. Other than that, they didn’t talk much.

“C’mon, you’re just gonna stand in the corner all night?” Zayn approached Harry, a glass of vodka held loosely in his hands.

Harry was pissed he was even in the situation he was in. Social events weren’t his thing, never something he found entertaining. He didn’t care about this stupid family’s return, he didn’t even know them.

“This is the last goddam place I want to be right now” Harry seethed, “I’m pissed off at you for even fucking forcing me here, don’t force me to try and mingle too.”

He let out a slight grumble in Zayn’s direction before making his way to the mini bar. On his way, in the midst of his aggravation, he felt a body collide with his. He groaned, a slight growl in the mix, definitely not in any mood for people to get in his way.

“Watch where you’re-“

“Oh, sorry” the girl gasped, “didn’t see you there.”

Harry’s body immediately froze at the sight of her. She was the most stunning woman he’s ever seen. Her eyes were sparkling with sorrow, lips parted slightly due to the impact. Her outfit complimented her body shape beautifully, leaving him absolutely speechless.

“I- It’s okay” he stuttered, eyes never leaving her, “are you okay?”

She nodded slightly, completely captivated by the most handsome man standing in front of her. God, how he was so beautiful, she would have never known a man like this could ever exist in this world.

“I’m okay” she softly spoke, “thank you.”

Harry insisted on buying her a drink as a way to apologize for not exactly paying attention to where he was going. They chatted for a while, mainly about the party. Come to find out, she was the daughter of Zayn’s aunt’s friends. She hadn’t gone to the states with them, however, she didn’t really make too much of an effort to go and see her in her stay in London.

They were talking quite well, considering Harry definitely did give her an attitude at times and somehow made her feel extremely intimidated whenever he did so. But he had to admit, it was one of the best conversations he’s had in a while, despite his unfriendly character.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Harry finally asked.

She blushed slightly.

“I’m Y/n. And you?”


“Oh, you’re Harry.” Y/n said quietly, a hint of realization in her tone of voice.

Harry didn’t like the way she said it, as if insulting him in a way. Which, for him, was a bit of a let down considering there was a moment where he genuinely believed she was different.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snapped, his voice somehow rougher and more raspy than how it was before, “Like you’re any better?“

His fierce stare upon her made Y/n feel belittled. When he spoke to her, he made her feel as if her existence was the dirt beneath his shoes. No wonder Zayn had warned her, no girl like Y/n could survive five minutes with such an intimidating man.

“Oh- um- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that Zayn had told me to stay away from you.” She stuttered, her voice barely above a mumble.

She still refused to make eye contact with him, only for the sake of her safety. She was too afraid to look at him now, when his body seemed tense and eyes filled with aggression. She was an easy pray for people like him to feed on- to get a good kick out of.

“I should go” she muttered, “It was lovely to meet you.”

Almost too quickly, she grabbed her bag off the bar and began to make her way back to where she was before. However, before making it too far, she felt a hand grab ahold of her wrist.

He didn’t know why, but when he had seen the fear set in Y/n’s eyes, an overwhelming feeling of guilt set upon him. It was strange, to feel so much of it hit him over one girl’s reaction. He had done this many times to many people, all of which having a moment of complete vulnerability during his encounters with them. But they didn’t necessarily make him feel anything more than the slightest bit of regret.

“Hey” he whispered softly, delicately pulling her back to where he was standing, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Y/n looked into his eyes as he spoke, giving her the reassurance she needed. He was genuine, she could tell, his eyes screamed sympathy.

“It’s oka-“

“But Zayn is right,” Harry continued, slowly letting her arm go “you should stay away from me.”

Before she had any time to react, he had walked away from her.

The rest of the night, Y/n was determined to speak to him again. After meeting him for the first time, she had an innumerable amount of questions she pressed Zayn to answer. Why is he always angry? Is he dangerous? But why was he so nice to me when I walked away?

Zayn explained that Harry wasn’t someone she should be concerned about. All he told her was that he had been hurt one too many times and it caused him to become violent towards those who threaten potential pain. He doesn’t apologize to anybody, and told her that it was quite strange how he had to her.

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about her. He didn’t know what it was, exactly, that intrigued him so much. Besides the fact she was the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on, she was so easy to talk with. She was quiet, and apart of him liked that about her. The moment he hurt her, he just felt so bad, like it was the last thing he ever wanted to see.

Which is why he walked away from her.

When he saw Zayn later that night, he had asked about her. He asked how they had known each other, asked about her life and where she lived. He was determined to know more about her. It wasn’t even that he just wanted to, but it felt like he had to, like he was being compelled to feel this way toward her.

Right as he was about to leave the party, he had heard her voice behind him


He slowly turned to look at her. She was looking as shy as ever, fingers fiddling together, cheeks blushed, eyes unsure. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to say, but she wanted to try.

“I want to get to know you.” She spoke softly, her hand reaching up to tuck some of her loose hair behind her ear.

He swore his heart melted. The second the words fell from her lips, he was willing to do whatever it took to get to know her.

“I know you said I should stay away from you, but I don’t want to.”

“Harry,” Zayn mumbles, snapping Harry out of his thoughts, “do you want to talk about it?”

Harry didn’t realize he was near tears until Zayn snapped him out of his trance. He didn’t look at them as he returns to placing the logs in piles, contemplating whether or not to disregard his statement or not. Of course he wants to talk about how much mental pain he’s in from not being with Y/n anymore, but he just can’t talk about it. They know that, too, because if he were ready, he would have already.

“Can you stop asking about her, please?” He groans, tossing the last piece of wood onto the top of the pile, “I know you guys know, so please, don’t make me say it.”

He doesn’t bother to look at them, instead, wiping off some of the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his flannel before making his way inside the house to change out of his sweaty clothes. He didn’t want to seem rude, but he’s completely and utterly broken, if he has to be questioned about her again he swears he’ll actually become ill.

Half-heartedly making his way to the bedroom, Harry opens up the duffle bag that sits on top of the bed, that he has yet to unpack, searching through the folded clothes to find his plain gray t-shirt he plans on wearing for later that night. Slipping off his flannel and sliding off the now dirty white tank top underneath, he puts on the t-shirt, throwing the dirty clothes into the laundry bin.

Once changed, Harry begins to unpack the remaining clothes out of his bag. His hands are shaking as he does so, breathing heavy when he sets his clothes down on the bed. His stomach twists with sick at the idea of sleeping in this goddamn room.

This was the first place they made love. It was within the first month of being with each other, filled with beautiful romance and bliss. It was the best night of his life. It was the first time he had touched someone so delicately before. The first time his violent hands spread love throughout her body. He said words he never thought he’d say again. Words that he actually fucking meant, words to express how his once cold heart felt warm for what felt like the first time in his life. 

It was her first visit to the lake house. She had just finished cleaning up the remaining dishes, insisting that even though she was the guest, she had to contribute to the clean up after having a barbecue. Harry was sitting by the kitchen table, just watching her, observing her as she hummed an unknown tune, her hair messily tied up on her head. He could hear the boys playing poker in the living room, which he would have played if Harry hadn’t already planned on taking Y/n out near the lake after she had finished cleaning up.

“Alright, Harry, all done.” she smiled, “Now what was it you wanted to show me?”

She made her way toward his sitting frame, taking a seat right on top of his lap. Combing her fingers through his hair, she planted a delicate kiss on the tip of his nose, making Harry’s face blush the color of roses. He reached his arms around her waist, nuzzling her body against his.

“Hm,” he hummed, kissing the exposed skin on her shoulder, “was gonna show you the lake, but almost considering just cuddling you all night long.”

Y/n smiled as Harry leaned in to press a hard kiss against her soft lips. She breathed out heavily, fingertips moving to caress his cheeks, his unshaved stubble scraping against their pads.

“Gross!” they heard Niall call from the living room, “I call the room farthest from yours!”

They both laughed, Harry rolling his eyes at the comment.

“As fantastic that sounds” Y/n smirked, raking her fingers on his back under his shirt, “this is my first time here, and it’s your birthday weekend. I want to explore it with you.”

She leaned down to quickly peck his chapped lips, which soon turned into a wild smirk. His green eyes looked into her brown ones, his fingers dancing along the nape of her neck.

“I can do that for you.”

Once they were by the lake, they sat in silence together. She was cuddled into him, sitting in between his legs, her head rolled back onto his shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. They admired the nature they were surrounded by, overwhelmed by the feeling of each other’s company under the moon. It felt like a dream, every bit of it did. It was such a surreal moment for them. They didn’t need to speak about anything for a while, being this close to each other, feeling each other’s bodies against one another was enough for them. They felt closer than ever.

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed. So much so that Y/n ended up on top of him. Her legs were straddling his waist, hands roaming under his shirt, nails scratching at his ribs. Harry had his hands all in her hair, as if trying to pull her closer to him, as if it were even possible.  Her lips traveled down to his neck, kissing every bit of the exposed skin. She just couldn’t get enough. They both couldn’t.

“Y/n.” Harry whispered.

“I love you, Harry.” She muttered against his skin.

“So in love with you.“

It was the first time it was said. They both knew they loved each other once they met. Hell, it was obvious. It didn’t need to be said, but she said it anyways. She said it like she meant it, too, like her heart was blooming as she spoke. God, he even felt her tears against his neck. She was so overwhelmed by their love, the words just slipped out in the moment, but oh how she meant them.

In that moment, he was a weak man. He completely surrendered himself to her love. He was willing for it to have all control over him. He made a promise to himself, to devote his life proving his love for her, proving that he will be the man she deserves in her life, not the man he had other people see.

“Y/n,” he whispers again, fingers gliding down her waist, “I’m so in love with you. I always will be.”

That night, once he had taken her to their room, they made love over and over and over again. It was their first time, opening up to each other in a completely different way than they usually did. His lips captured hers perfectly, his hands fit in hers as if they were, quite literally, made for each other. His name became a mantra, her body became a temple. It was an entirely new level of trust. It was a night that they could have re-lived every day for the rest of their lives, easily, with not a complaint in the world.

Fuck” Harry spits, reaching the back of his hand up to eyes in an attempt to wipe the tears threatening to spill.

He can’t sleep in here, there’s no way he could, not without Y/n. Not without her in his arms, not without making love to her beforehand. His bed at home made him sick enough, but here? He just can’t fathom it.

He begins to shove the clothes he’s started to unpack back into his suitcase. He can’t stay in here another minute. He’ll lose his goddamn mind.

While zipping up his bag, he hears the front door open. Niall’s laugh fills the silence in the house upon his entrance, which gives Harry an idea on how to fix his sleeping situation without raiding the couch.

“Niall!” Harry yells, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

Niall makes his way up the steps toward his voice.


“We’re switching rooms!”

“Oh hell no!”

Niall goes into the room Harry’s in, his face strict and serious.

“You and Y/n have fucked on that bed way too many times. I don’t even think you washed the sheets last time you guys did it on there, either. Pretty sure this room has a permanent stench of sex because of you two.”

Harry’s jaw clenches. Normally, he’d have a rational conversation until he got his way, but he isn’t taking this situation lightly. So, instead, he grabs Niall’s wrist harshly, eyes narrowing down at him as he takes a threatening step closer to him.

Niall’s eyes widen as he looks up at him. Not even because a small part of him felt intimidated, but because this is the first time Harry has shown aggression toward anybody within the past couple of months. There is a chance the part he’s been hiding is becoming unleashed, but Niall knows it was easily set off by Harry’s many failed attempts to get Y/n out of his head.

“I don’t think you understand, Niall” Harry seethes, “I may have not laid my hands on anyone in months, but missing Y/n doesn’t only make me sad, it makes me dangerous. I will not hesitate to do whatever it takes to be as far away from this room as possible. Now I will not tell you again, we are switching rooms.”

Niall rips his hand out of Harry’s grip, shaking it around a bit from the amount of pressure Harry was gripping it with.

“Alright, Jesus,” he groans, “but you better wash those fucking sheets. I refuse to sleep in a bed full of sex.“

Harry lets out a breath he was holding in, somewhat relieved that he doesn’t have to be spending three nights in his own personal hell. 

Adjusting the strap of his bag onto his shoulder, Harry slowly nods as he continues to look at Niall. He feels bad for treating him in the way he just did, but the idea of becoming more hurt than he already was is something he wouldn’t be able to live with. 

“Yeah, yeah I will.” He mutters. “I’m sorry, by the way, for that. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t be in this room for another second without losing my mind. I really can’t.”

Niall sighs, slowly reaching up to wrap his arms security around Harry. Being like his brother, he really has felt so bad for what he’s been going through. He can’t imagine the heartbreak, or how he’s even surviving the breakup as well as he has. 

Harry reaches his arms around Niall’s body, hugging him back.

“It’s okay, bud. I get it, you don’t have to apologize. I’ll even wash the sheets for you.”

Harry lets out a slight laugh, shaking his head briefly before detaching himself from Niall and making his way into his room.

Once settled, Harry makes his way down to the kitchen to grab a couple of beers and take some time to himself. If this weekend is going to haunt the living shit out of him, he might as well try to make himself relax the slightest bit.

With a bottle of beer held loosely in his hand, he opens the sliding door that leads to the porch. Leaning his body against the doorway, Harry admires the sun setting on the lake, watching as the wind moves the leaves in small dance.

For the first time since the breakup, he actually feels at peace.

“She broke up with you, didn’t she?” Liam asks, suddenly joining Harry on the porch as he sips on a bottle of beer, slinging his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry rolls his eyes, the accusation of her leaving him must have been the topic of all their conversations. Of course that’s what they thought, it must have been so convenient for them to think Y/n could live a great life without him while he would be a danger to the streets. That’s how much he needed her, but they never seemed to notice how much she needed him, not how Harry noticed.

“Why is everyone so convinced that if we were to ever break up, she’d be the one that called it off?” Harry snarls.

“I was the one who ended it.” He continues, “It wasn’t working out.”

He takes a swig from his beer, eyes still trained on the view of the lake. He doesn’t want to continue this conversation, doesn’t want to relive the night that tore his life apart. Most of all, he doesn’t want to talk about it here, at this stupid fucking lake house, and have to dwell on the pain he wishes he could erase. He doesn’t want to be reminded that he was the one who did this to them.

“C’mon,” Liam sighs, “she was the only thing you had. She was the only one to get this Harry back. You were just afraid she’d leave you first.”

Harry decides not to answer, not knowing how to respond. Of course that’s why he ended it, that’s how he operates. He pushes those away just so that nobody pushes him away. He could deal with anybody else doing it, but if Y/n had left him first, there was no way he’d ever make it through that. Not a fiber in his body doubts that for even a second.

“Have you spoken to her at all?” Liam breaks the silence.

Harry looks down at his beer, circling it in his hands. Why does he keep asking him questions he clearly doesn’t want to answer?

“She said she never wanted to see me again.” Harry mumbles, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left.”

Jesus, Harry.” Liam whispers. “Are you okay?”

Something about that question makes something inside of Harry twist. Is he okay? How can he be okay? He hasn’t seen the love of his life, hasn’t talked to her, hasn’t even heard the sound of her breathing in months. Every part of his body hurts every time he thinks about her because the feeling of being away from her is the most painful feeling in the world.

His life was consumed by her love. His entire world changed when he met her. Nobody else could he lay his hands so sweetly on, could his voice speak so softly to, could his heart swell so greatly for. She changed him, even though he was too scared to admit it to her, she changed him. She gave him hope- gave him a reason to hold onto himself.

Since she’s left, in times when he’s at his all-time low, all he can think about is how his arms felt holding her, how his lips felt kissing her, how fucking relieving and beautiful it was to talk to her, and how he let all of that go.

How can he be okay?

Tears cloud his vision, his hands begin to shake. Oh, God. He thought he was over this. He thought he was over the emotions, he didn’t deserve them. He did this, he caused all this, this was his decision. Yet here he is, again, fighting back the tears that have been so desperate to be released.

“I mean” Harry begins, his voice shaking as he speaks, “I mean, I fucked up everything. I had everything I ever needed and I was the one who let it go. I was starting to think that her leaving me would be worse but now-”

He’s choking back sobs, face wet with unwelcomed tears, “now I can’t stop thinking about how much she hates me right now. She has a home without me, she lives her life without me, she is falling asleep at night without me. And the worst part is that she didn’t want it that way. That was all me, everything is because of me!”

Liam rushes to wrap his arms around him, pulling Harry’s head down onto his shoulder so that he has a place to cry. Harry’s holding him like it’s his ever last bit of hope, almost as if grasping for reassurance for his relationship with Y/n.

“Harry.” he whispers.

“Trust me, Liam, I didn’t want this, either” he continues, words scrambling out of his mouth, “but what else was I supposed to do? And now I’m at this stupid fucking lake house where we talked about getting married and she’s not here with me and I can’t do this anymore!”

He’s completely helpless now. His body is weak, shaking against Liam’s tense frame. He’s in so much pain, so much heartbreak that he’s almost screaming, begging God for some mercy because he can’t take this anymore. The constant thought of her, the constant reminder that he’s never going to see her again rips his heart out every second of every day.

“I just really don’t want to know what it’s like to live another day without her” his voice quivers, “I never do.”

Harry’s wet eyes meet Liam’s sympathetic ones. Liam opens his mouth, preparing to say something, but Harry simply shakes his head. He can’t do this anymore. 

He pats Liam’s shoulder- thanking him for being by his side- before turning around to walk away. He slides the glass door open, walking inside the kitchen to replace his now empty bottle of beer with a new one.

“Wait,” Liam mumbles, “wait, Harry, I have to tell you something.”

Harry stops in his place, slowly turning his body around to look at him. He cocks his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed, seeming confused.

“Y/n- she’s- she’s coming here tonight.”  

paolarq  asked:

Sooo, about te soulmate prompts, how about number 3 with an accidental reveal and the other doesn't know how to tell because a lot of people have appeared with fake marks. (Patater if possible) thank you!!!

3: The one where you and your soulmate have matching marks on your bodies.

The locker room is all abuzz when Tater walks in. It’s too early in the morning and his brain can’t completely process the flurry of English, but it sounds like everyone is talking about someone’s soul mark. Tater ignores it for the most part and focuses on drinking his coffee and changing into his weight room clothes. He figures someone will clue him in later, when he’s more coherent.

He figures correctly. It only takes about five minutes on the bike for someone (Snowy) to join him and ask if he’s heard the news. Apparently, Kent Parson’s soul mark has been leaked.

Snowy tells Tater the whole story and Tater’s heart breaks for Parson right away. He’d hooked up with someone (a guy, which of course adds more fuel to the crazy train) and after he fell asleep, the guy removed his mark cover and took a photo of it. It’s the ultimate breach of confidentiality, a person’s soul mark is the most private and personal thing in the world. It’s something that should only be shared when someone wants it to be shared. And now, the whole world knows what Kent Parson’s mark is without his permission.

Snowy tells Tater that it happened over the weekend and now there are a whole bunch of people showing up at the Aces practices with fake marks, claiming to be Parson’s soulmate. It’s an absolute nightmare for the organization and for Parson, who’s remained tight-lipped.

“The crazy thing is, his mark is so detailed. People are getting his mark tattooed on them but they’re so obviously fake,” Snowy says. “It’s cool, though. It’s this crazy looking tiger right on his forearm. Kinda where yours is.”

Snowy taps Tater’s cover with his fingertips and Tater freezes. He can feel the blood drain from his face. Russians are typically very open about their soul marks, but it’s well-known that Tater is protective of his.

“Sorry dude,” Snowy says immediately.

“What kind of tiger?” Tater asks quietly, his heart racing.

Snowy’s eye brows raise and he pulls out his phone. He brings up the photo of Parson’s mark and Tater swallows hard. In a flash, Snowy is pulling him off the bike and into the hallway, away from their teammates. His grip on Tater’s wrist is tight, though Tater could easily break free if he wanted to. Snowy finds an empty room to pull Tater into and shuts the door behind them.

“Am I reading this wrong?” Snowy asks, his hand resting lightly on Tater’s cover.

Tater takes a shaky breath. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he can even form words right now. So he reaches down and unbuckles the clasp on his cover. He pops the buttons, unzips the zipper, and eventually pulls it slowly down his arm.

He doesn’t have to look at it to know. He’s seen his mark so many times he would recognize it anywhere. He’s traced every line with his fingertips, wondering when he’d finally get to meet his other half. Tater hears the way Snowy sucks in a breath when he sees it and he knows he’s not imagining anything.

“Holy shit,” Snowy says. “Holy fucking shit.”

Tater doesn’t know what to do. He hardly knows Parson and yet now he knows they’re soulmates. The question is, where does he go from here? He and Snowy have to get back to working out and then they have to practice, which fortunately gives Tater the time to think it all over. By the time Snowy pushes his way into Tater’s apartment, Tater has just about processed the information. Kent Parson is his soulmate.

They talk over dinner and come to a shared conclusion. Tater has to tell Parson, but he has to wait until he can do it face to face. This isn’t the kind of thing you want to do over the phone or even something like FaceTime. It wouldn’t be fair to either him or Kent to do that. It also makes sense to wait until he can tell Parson in person because his life is probably crazy right now. He’s got a lot going on, with his sexuality and his mark both public knowledge. Plus the people trying to claim to be his soulmate.

That bothers Tater a lot more than he originally thought. He doesn’t like the idea of other people trying to claim his soulmate from him. Even when he’s only met Parson a few times on the ice as rivals. Snowy laughs when he says that, and calls him a jealous fuck. But Tater just shrugs. He thinks he’s allowed to be jealous when it comes to his soulmate.

Tater isn’t happy about waiting. They don’t play the Aces again for another month. That’s an entire month he has to think about what he’s going to say. That’s an entire month he has to worry about Parson not accepting him as his soulmate. It’s an entire month for him to hide this information from everyone he knows besides Snowy.

Tater seriously owes him a bottle of the best vodka Russia has to offer.

Collision Course - Part Nine

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven,
Part Eight

Only one part left after this and then the Epilogue (and possibly other little snippets as the muse and prompts strike). - Mod Lenny

“I know where we are,” Frank exclaimed suddenly, sitting up straighter behind Claire on the horse.

She looked around, her pulse quickening with fear. They should still be at least a few hours away from the stones; it was too soon.

Then she too recognized the rock formation in the distance.

“Cocknammon Rock,” she said with a smile.

“You remember then?” There was something hopeful in Frank’s voice but Claire was distracted.

“Of course I do. You told me about the British patrols and when we passed this way on our journey to Leoch I warned Jamie about it,” she explained. “He alerted the others and then dumped me off the horse so I’d be safe out of the way while he and the others surprised the soldiers. I tried to get away back to the stones but he found me again before I got very far.”

She remembered how he’d slipped easily down from his horse and crossed to block her way, still covered in blood and dirt from the skirmish and making no hint as to the injuries he’d suffered. She smiled again. The idiot might’ve died if she hadn’t been there when it was his turn to fall off the horse.

“I see,” Frank said from behind her, his tone drastically different from the moment before.

Claire found herself annoyed with him but held her tongue. Like Murtagh had said that evening by the fire, she couldn’t help how she felt. And Frank certainly wasn’t making things easier.

If Murtagh heard the exchange he didn’t say anything about it, only let them know, “It’ll no be much longer. We can either stop for another night so ye dinna arrive where ye’re goin’ in the dark or ye can go through just afore sundown.”

“Tonight,” Frank said quickly. “The sooner we get home, the better.”

“Will it really be better to walk all the way to Inverness in the dark when we’ve been riding all day?” Claire challenged. “Or perhaps we’ll just be struck by a passing motorist. I think we should take advantage of having someone here to help keep watch while we get some rest.”

“What exactly is it that you’re waiting for?” Frank asked under his breath. “Do you think he’ll come after you? He knows his place in this, that you’re married to me, that you’re my wife. He knows you’ll be better off with me.”

“And what makes you so sure about what Jamie thinks?” Claire countered.

“He told me as much himself.”

That caused Claire’s breathing to catch and her chest to seize painfully.

“You two talked about me?” There was an accusation in her voice but regarding what, she wasn’t sure.

“It isn’t as though we have much else in common.” Frank’s tone hadn’t completely softened but it wasn’t as openly antagonistic either. “You did say he was your friend. He wants what’s best for you and that’s for you to come home.”

Claire could completely believe that Jamie had said those things to Frank; he had said similar thing to her. But hearing Frank say them… it changed them, somehow. It made her want to argue, to point out all the reasons she had to stay… but really, there weren’t many reasons for her to stay… just Jamie.

They passed back into silence as they rode the rest of the way finally spotting the hill in the distance as the sun set behind it. She recalled hiding with Frank near the summit of that hill and glimpsing the sun through the crack in the stone as it rose while the local druids danced. She saw the sun again through that crack but with the world turned around and the sun peeking through on its descent, shrouding the world in shadows rather than bathing it in light.

“I’m too tired to face going through that tonight, Frank,” Claire pleaded. “I’m hungry and I want to sleep.”

He sighed while Murtagh pointedly stayed out of the conversation.

“Very well. You’re right; we don’t know how long we’ll have to walk before a car stops and it’ll be safer if they can see us properly when they do,” Frank conceded.

“There’s a wee cottage near here,” Murtagh remarked now that a decision had been made. “It was abandoned last I knew. Might be a sight more comfortable than sleeping in the open.” He looked to Claire who nodded then he turned his horse to one side and led the way.

They set up their final camp in silence and quickly turned in for the night.

Claire lay next to Frank but her mind sought Jamie and refused to quiet. Was she really contemplating staying? How could she even think of doing something like that to Frank? All of it was insane. To think of everything she would have to give up in order to stay––the friends she’d made during the war, the conveniences of modernity, the rights and privileges she had taken for granted…

And what would she get in return? Jamie was an outlaw and since breaking Frank out of Fort William, she almost certainly was too. On top of that she was a woman and English and, as Jamie had told her once, that wasn’t a pretty thing to be in the Highlands of Scotland.

But she would have Jamie. He knew the truth now, about who and what she was; he knew the truth and believed her. She could be herself with him, talk about what life was like in the twentieth century; she could tell him about what lay…

Her heart began to pound and fear gripped her.

Culloden. The Jacobite Rising was just two years away. Would she be able to live with herself if she left Jamie behind knowing how likely it was that he would end up on that disastrous battlefield? If she returned to the future and failed to find out what happened to Jamie––or worse, that he had died in battle…

Murtagh. Whatever she ultimately decided to do with herself, she would be sure to warn Murtagh. If anyone had a hope of keeping Jamie from getting involved in the Rising, it was his godfather.

But she wanted to be sure. And the only way to do that was to stay. So why was she so scared to make up her mind?

She didn’t know how Jamie felt about her. She had her suspicions––she knew he liked her well enough––but he hadn’t ever said anything to her that would suggest…

Despite yearning for rest, Claire got no sleep that night, rising with the sun and staring at the hilltop where her fate would be decided once and for all.

“Are ye ready to go back then?” Murtagh’s quiet voice came up behind her.

She peered through the door to where Frank was only beginning to stir on the floor.

“If anything I’m more confused about what I ought to do than I was yesterday or the day before that or the day before that,” Claire lamented.

“Ye’ll do what ye must when the time comes,” Murtagh assured her. “And then ye’ll pray for the health and happiness of the one ye leave wi’out ye. Cannae do more’n that.”

“There is something I would tell you before we go,” Claire began solemnly. “It’s about… it’s about something that’s going to happen.”

Murtagh’s brow furrowed suspiciously.

“You know that there are always rumors of King James returning and taking back his throne?”

“D’ye mean to say he will?”

There was surprise and hope in the man’s face and Claire’s heart sank as she shook her head.

“His son, Prince Charles, will try in two years’ time… but it will end in disaster. You have to promise me that you’ll keep Jamie from getting involved in it; keep him away from Culloden.”

Confusion returned to Murtagh’s expression.

“When ye say,’disaster,’ ye mean the battle’s lost.”

“It’s more than just that though. The Highlanders will be severely punished in their defeat,” Claire explained as best she could.

“The Clans will end as you know them,” Frank chimed in from the doorway, his fingers tucking the ragged ends of his bandages in where they’d come loose in sleep. “Your language, your tartans––both will be outlawed. There will be raids throughout the highlands by the military––made worse by famine.”

Claire let Frank continue filling in the details that she recalled so little about, absorbing them anew herself. He couldn’t have been more precise if he’d prepared a proper lecture with notes. And Murtagh stood there listening and nodding, his mind already sorting and storing what he would need to know most, discarding the details that he could afford to forget.

Would telling a single Scotsman be enough to change the course of history? Probably not. But it might be enough to save Jamie––to save some of those at Leoch, perhaps, as well.

“Thank ye,” Murtagh said when Frank was through. He extended his hand for Frank but then flushed as he saw Frank glance at his bandages again and hesitate before shaking Murtagh’s hand gingerly.

“I don’t know what use you’ll be able to put it to,” Frank admitted. “But it seems a fair exchange for the services you’ve rendered Claire and I.”

“Fair exchange,” Murtagh murmured with a nod then turned to Claire. “Ye ken where ye’re goin’ from here, I take it.”

“Yes, thank you.” She stepped forward and surprised Murtagh with a hug. “Please, keep him safe,” she whispered.

Murtagh didn’t acknowledge what she’d said, just nodded farewell to her as she and Frank began the climb up the hill.

“Has it really only been two weeks?” Frank muttered, picking his way up carefully.

“For you it has,” Claire reminded him.

“Well, I am ready for the nightmare to be over,” he said with confidence, taking Claire’s hand loosely in his and guiding her to the stone.

She stopped when they were still a few feet away, her hand slipping from his easily.


“You don’t need to be scared,” he reassured her. “I remember how terrible it was but we just have to do this and it will all be over, once and for all.”

She was shaking her head slowly, tears in her eyes.

He took her hand again and squeezed it as hard as he was able. It was enough for her gold ring to dig uncomfortably into her finger.

“Claire… Just… look at me, all right. Keep your eyes on me. We’ll do this together.”

His eyes were brown; he had dirt on his cheek from where he’d slept with it pressed to the dirt floor of the cabin; he needed a haircut and a shave; there was a sheen of sweat on his face and redness in his eyes; his lips were chapped and he looked desperate and afraid.

She raised her free hand the way he had his other hand raised, reaching for the stone.

“On three,” he instructed. “One… two… th––”

“I’m sorry,” Claire said quickly as Frank’s hand went forward. She pulled her hand from his as he held tight and struggled to pull her forward with him.

And then she fell.

She was on the ground, her head spinning… and Frank was gone.

Prologue // Somebody Else [A Stiles Stilinski Story]

Prompt: Stiles broke her heart and now she can never look at him the same. Even though they remained friends, she can’t exactly find it in herself to truly forgive him and he doesn’t know how to accept her new relationship with the one person he hates the most in this world. Overtime, you could say, they both eventually got over each other… or have they?

Series (collab with @sarcasticallystilinski): Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six 

Relationship: Stiles Stilinski x OFC

Warnings: Only kissing for now, but there will be future smut.

Word Count: 770

Song: Somebody Else by The 1975

A/N: Hello, there! So, I have some exciting news! @sarcasticallystilinski and I have come together to write you guys a really awesome story! I hope you guys like our collab!

“Are you sure we should be out here?” Katalina asked her best friend as they ran towards the empty lacrosse field, his hand in hers.

“No.” Stiles laughed, guiding her behind the bleachers. “But, it’s not like we’ll actually get caught.”

Katalina wanted to believe him, she really did. But, she was so afraid that a teacher would end up finding her skipping class and put it on her flawless perminent record. She can’t risk getting in trouble, not when her goal is to get in the best college of the state. Sure, she’s just fourteen, but, hey, it’s never too early to think about your future.

“Stiles, we should really go back.” Katalina protested, peering her eyes around the field as they settled. “I think we can still make it in time for our next class.”

“Kat, could you just relax?” The boy with freckles painted across his cheeks chuckled. “We’re behind the bleachers. No one can see us, therefore, no one will catch us.”

The young girl took a deep breath, looking hard into Stiles’ eyes to see a possible sign of doubt. When she didn’t find any, she chose to just trust him and, finally, smiled back at him.

“So, what do you have in mind for us to do?” Katalina giggled, excitement beginning to seethe in her veins.

“I don’t know.” Stiles shrugged, a smirk planting itself on his face. “We could play games, talk or maybe- this.”

Katalina’s best friend, the same person she secretly has a crush on but doesn’t have the courage to ever confront it, placed his hands on her cheeks and she could already feel a blush warm them. Her heart beat faster once she realized what he was about to do and she didn’t dare push him away. She wanted this, oh how she wanted this.

With their breaths hitching in both of their throats, Stiles nervously leaned in and placed his lips against hers. It felt so foreign to the both of them, feeling someone else’s mouth on their own, considering this was their first kiss ever. It was strange since neither one of them really knew what they were doing and the kiss didn’t last very long, only a few seconds.

Stiles and Katalina stared at each other, their cheeks flushed with blushes and they felt so nervous. Both kids embarassed at how akward they were at this thanks to their lack of experience.

“C-Can we try that again?” Stiles asked, anxiously scratching the back of his neck. Katalina smiled before gripping his plaid shirt and gently pulling him in, again.

It was harder this time and more urgent. This second one beginning to feel like what they actually expected kisses would be like. Stiles and Katalina meshed their lips together, doing everything they can to try and understand what felt good. Once they seemed to get a hold of it, they let themselves enjoy each other’s touch.

Both of their hearts sung and fluttered at how they were kissing each other’s crushes. Neither one of them knew it, but they were already in love at such a young age. And this bond between them was only going to grow stronger.

“What the hell is going on here?!” A familiar voice shouted, causing the two lovebirds to break their kiss.

A chill ran up Katalina’s spine when she turned around to see a very shocked and confused Coach Finstock staring them down with wide eyes and his hands placed on his hips. Stiles held a hand up to cover his mouth and hide the laughter that so desperately wanted to escape as Katalina stared at the teacher in horror. She didn’t know what to do or say, all she could really do was stand still in fear.

“Get back to class!” Coach yelled, both of them immediately following orders and running towards the school.  Finstock shook his head in disbelief, disgusted at what he just witnessed. “Ugh, kids. I’m teaching High School from now on.”

Once she realized she wouldn’t be getting in serious trouble for this little act of rebellion, Katalina let herself breathe again and looked over to a laughing Stiles. His happiness triggered her own and she laughed along with him, feeling all of the weight being lifted from her shoulders.

She felt light and at peace as they ran, a lot like how she always feels with Stiles. They were young, but in love and inseparable. And they would remain that way, even when the odds worked against them. Stiles and Katalina would always find a way back to each other, no matter what.

despite what you’ve been told

part one of maybe 3 or 4?? unbeta’d and unfinished at this point, will put on ao3 later when it’s polished and pretty as vitya in a flower crown ok? ok lets wreck this

He repeats the name Yuuri Katsuki in his head five times, only moving his mouth with the sound on the fifth, and that’s the most memorization he can do in the minute before all of the lights in the room and the crowd of mildly alarmed onlookers become indistinct blurs.

Victor has had a few drinks and found himself on the dance floor of a Grand Prix gala more than once.  Has tumbled into someone’s arms within minutes of meeting them more than once.  Has now won the Grand Prix itself more than once–five times, exactly, not that he’s counting (he definitely is counting, but not at this precise moment.)

He’s never been this charmed.

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The Five Times Credence Apparated and the One Time it Backfired

@mustardprecum @coloursflyaway


Credence closes his eyes and takes in a deep, steadying breath, narrowing his focus to the wand in his hand. It’s only too easy to focus on something–or rather, someone–else with Graves’ chest pressed to his back, the solid line of his arm against Credence’s, his fingers curled around his own, but Credence has to concentrate. His magic isn’t going to work otherwise.

“Your magic is a part of you,” Graves says, voice low and soft in Credence’s ear. “I know you’re used to it, but don’t fight it. Just picture where you want to go, and let it happen.”

Suppressing a shudder at the hot breath on his neck, Credence tries to do as Graves tells him. He reaches for the magic that’s always lurked within him. It’s no longer the twisted, tangled mess he’s grown used to, but something clearer, almost pure. It at least feels kinder than it used to.

Hesitantly, Credence draws it out, allowing it to flow through his body into the wand. He can feel it building in intensity, pushing at the tip of the wand, begging to be used. Credence squeezes his eyes shut and releases it.

There’s a rush of air, the brief sensation of being nothing, before Credence snaps back together, slightly sick to his stomach.

Graves’ hand lands on his shoulder, steadying him, helping him keep his feet. “Where… where are we?” Credence asks when he’s collected himself a little more.

Graves looks around, a shadow of confusion passing over his face when he realizes where they’ve ended up. “We appear to be in my office.”

Oh. Credence flushes, turning his face away from Graves to hide it.

This office was the first place Credence had ever met Graves, the real Graves, and his subconscious must have decided it was the safest place to take them. He’d been concentrating so hard on actually making his magic work that he’d given barely any thought to where he actually wanted to go.

“Credence,” Graves says, and Credence turns towards him, half expecting to be scolded for intruding where he doesn’t belong. Instead, Graves gives him a small, unexpected smile. “I’m proud of you.”

Credence doesn’t get the opportunity to hide his blush that time.

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Close as Strangers: Chapter 9

Close as Strangers: Chapter 9

Word count: 4.4k

Genre: High School au, angst, fluff

Sorry this is kind of late. Anyway, thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday! Hope you enjoy, let me know if you’re still reading. haha :)

Originally posted by jeonsshi

Parts:  one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

When you woke up you heard singing from your shower and you knew exactly who it was. You jumped up hearing Yoongi sing, Skin by Mac Miller. You pressed your ear against the door, tears welling in your eyes. Man, you had missed your best friend and it had only been one day. Then again it had felt a lot longer than that. You were so busy with Jungkook that you hadn’t been paying as much attention to Yoongi, not as much as you always did. The shower turned off and he started humming the song while you heard the door slide opened to the shower.

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Kol x Reader

Part One   Part Two   Part Three   Part Four   Part Five   Part Six

“But we’re already married.” Kol sighed and threw himself on your bed. “Rebekah made such a drama out of the wedding.”


“My brothers weren’t there.” You reminded him and he sighed.


“Fine but only if we don’t invite Niklaus.” Kol surrendered and you smiled, kissing him as you nodded.

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Jem: The Misfits #5

  • Kelly Thompson (w) • Jenn St-Onge (a) • M. Victoria Robado ©
  • OUR SONGS ARE BETTER Part Five! The Misfits Reality Show has been unearthing all of the bands secrets since day one. Jetta’s secret is bigger than all of them, but she’s also better at keeping it. Still, when coming clean might mean saving the day, will Jetta show her true colors and save her band, or just save herself?
  • FC • 32 pages • $3.99

SO. Yes, Misfits was every only planned to be a 5-Issue mini series and then we were going to see what happened…and what’s happening is something very big and exciting…things that are going to CHANGE EVERYTHING.

Read here for a bit more info about that and keep an eye out (in March?) for the big announcement:

Partner (p. 6)

parts: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | end

extras: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven

pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader x Slight Joshua

genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut

wordcount: 3343

synopsis: You’ve been helping BTS co-produce music for as long as you can remember. Because of that, you’ve spent most of your career working alongside Min Yoongi. On the cusp of achieving a dream you’ve all worked so hard for, another wish is realized along the way.

Keep reading

Collision Course - Part Eight

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

They rode in silence, only the occasional directions to the horses or calls to break for food or water.

It surprised Claire that Frank was so quiet but she presumed it was because he found Murtagh intimidating and her own silence daunting. As Murtagh erected a small camp for the night, Claire left Frank to cope with being saddle sore and wandered off to gather kindling for their fire. In the woods she realized how different silence was from solitude.

Her heart was heavy and she knew why; she missed Jamie. With Frank riding behind her sharing a horse, it was impossible not to be reminded of those first days after she traveled through the stones and the solid, reassuring presence of Jamie at her back, sheltering her and keeping her warm. Had she ever felt quite that way with Frank? Or was she misremembering all of it? She had wanted to get back to the standing stones so she could get back to Frank since she’d arrived, she just hadn’t succeeded before he showed up there himself. During that first ride with Jamie, she had been in shock and denial about what had truly happened; she had been surrounded by a band of ruthless Highlanders who thought she was an English spy and easily could have killed her.

She should be relieved that this whole ordeal was ending. In a few days time she would be back in the twentieth century; she would be able to soak in a nice hot bath, wash her hair properly, even shave her legs; no more stays or layers of skirts to trip over; bedding with clean sheets and no lingering smell of a chamberpot tucked away under the bed.

And Frank would be the one lying beside her. His wounds would be tended in a proper hospital and then they would go back to Oxford and pick up where they’d left off before their holiday had been so abruptly derailed.

That’s what their holiday had been about in the first place––picking up where they’d left off before the war. Was it possible too much had happened? She tried to think of what Frank must have gone through since her disappearance, the trauma of traveling through the stones and to so quickly fall into Black Jack Randall’s clutches; she had come dangerously close to that herself.

She did understand Frank’s position and she felt for him but there was something more holding her back.


He would be all right without her… wouldn’t he? Did she want him to be?

She scolded herself for thinking something so selfish. Of course she wanted him to be happy… she would simply be happier if it was her making him happy.

But she couldn’t have things both ways; she couldn’t reconcile the vows she’d made to Frank all those years ago––the vows that had sent her searching for a way back to Craig na Dun in the first place––with whatever it was she felt for Jamie.

She carried the kindling back to their camp and started the fire. Murtagh disappeared to see about supplementing their provisions with some fresh meat and Claire took one of Frank’s bandage-wrapped wrists into her lap to inspect the state of the wounds. They were still redder and more swollen than she would like. Prodding gently, some puss squeezed from the edges of the scabbed over cuts. He needed antibiotics.

“You’re still wearing it,” Frank remarked flatly, surprising Claire.

She reached for a salve from her medical kit and began lightly applying it to the infected wound.

“Wearing what?”

With his other bandaged hand, Frank reached over and tapped Claire’s left hand.

Her thumb instinctively felt for the iron band of her wedding ring, her heart steadied by its reassuring warmth on her finger.

She looked back at Frank’s arm in her lap and shrugged.

“Don’t really notice it,” she said dismissively. “Slipped my mind.”

“You should give it to his friend there,” Frank nodded toward Murtagh who was nearly finished with their tents for the evening. “He can return it.”

Claire clenched her teeth and ignored Frank. She could not tell Frank that Jamie had said she could keep the ring because that would show that she had thought about it and she would also feel compelled to tell Frank that she had asked to keep it in the first place.

Luckily, Frank was perceptive enough to drop the subject and instead began expressing concerns about his arms.

“You’ll be fine,” Claire assured him. “Once you get back, it’s just a matter of getting antibiotics for the infection. You probably won’t want to roll up your sleeves too often because of the scars––those are probably unavoidable at this point.”

“Once we get back,” Frank emphasized quietly.

Claire felt her cheeks flush momentarily but continued applying the salve uninterrupted. “You know what I meant.”

Having finished with the salve, she turned to put the jar away in her medical kit and thought she might have heard Frank mutter, ‘Do I?’ under his breath. She ignored him and set about re-wrapping his wrists, the rest of the treatment performed in silence.

Murtagh insisted she and Frank take the makeshift tent for the night.

“I’ll stay by the fire and keep watch,” he told her.

“You’ll need to sleep eventually,” Claire reminded him but Murtagh shrugged off her concern.

“I dinna sleep deep on the moors. There’s not much as might happen that willna wake me wi’ no time to act.”

Claire didn’t bother to argue; she helped Frank settle onto the roll of bedding before stretching out beside him. It was closer than they’d been sleeping in the cave where she preferred to rest propped against the cave wall, afraid of disturbing his much needed rest. They didn’t speak but rolled towards each other. She felt Frank’s lips brush her forehead and turned her face up to his.

There was a moment of hesitation and she realized that she hadn’t kissed him since they’d rescued him; not once. She felt a twinge of shame. After all he’d been through, she hadn’t thought to embrace him or even offer him a loving caress. She had been too wrapped up in his medical care and how Jamie was handling everything.

She reached up now and ran her fingers lightly along the stubble on Frank’s cheek. It was rougher than she anticipated. Her thumb slipped down and traced the Frank’s lower lip before he brought his mouth to meet hers.

She remembered his kiss, the warmth of his lips on hers, and the sureness behind it. She let her eyes close so that when he pulled away, he couldn’t read what she was thinking. He lightly bumped her forehead with his chin, a question.

“We should get some rest,” she whispered, her hands drifting down and lightly rubbing his upper arms. “We still have a long few days before we get to the stones.”

He smiled against her forehead, satisfied for now, then shifted and brought his bandaged arm up to hold her close to him. Her head rested on his shoulder and she felt him relax beneath her cheek. Her body relaxed too but her mind refused to settle.

She lay there entirely awake but unmoving until she was sure he slept deeply. Then gingerly, she moved his arm from off of her and rolled away.

“Are you all right?” Frank whispered. She hadn’t been subtle enough.

“Of course,” she assured him, moving to rise. “I just need to go… you know.”

There was a muffled chuckle from where he shifted himself into a more comfortable position. “That’s something you must have missed––running water and proper lavatories.”

“You have no idea,” she murmured, ducking through the flap of the tent.

Murtagh sat up from his spot beside the low campfire, his dirk in his hand until he recognized that it was only Claire.

“Mistress,” he murmured before laying back.

Claire wandered off into the woods for a moment to keep up the pretense and prayed that Frank would be asleep again by the time she got back.

How was she going to do it? How was she supposed to go back with Frank and be his wife again when every time he touched her she felt the rising shame of betrayal? She wasn’t even sure which betrayal was behind the shame. She remembered how it had been to kiss Frank before, the way it built slowly, the way her body would arch towards him. She remembered but it hadn’t been like that tonight. He had kissed her and it had been lovely but it had been a kiss like any other. She had waited and searched for that deeper stirring but it didn’t come.

There were no visible flames left in the small circle of stones they’d used to contain the fire but the spot still gave off a reassuring heat. Claire found Murtagh sitting again when she returned a few moments later.

“Ye’re bad as Jamie when he’s something on his mind,” Murtagh said, nodding to an empty space next to him.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she murmured, taking him up on the offer to put off going back in with Frank.

Claire stared into the embers of the fire. There weren’t any visible flames but a warm red color ebbed and flowed, pulsing with life. She didn’t notice but the fingers of her left hand were playing with the ring on her right, turning it in circles so the nub where the two ends had been joined orbited her middle knuckle, catching whenever she slightly bent the finger.

“Ye canna choose where yer affections lie,” Murtagh said quietly.

Claire’s fingers stilled but she wouldn’t look at Murtagh.

“But that doesna mean there isna a choice involved in what ye do about it… even if sometimes it doesna feel like it. Maybe… maybe it’s like yer stones.”

At that, Claire did look over at Murtagh, but with confusion.

“Ye didna choose to pass through them, no?” he asked.

“Of course not. I didn’t even know what had happened at first,” she agreed.

“Like falling in love,” Murtagh mused but this time there was something heavier in it, something more personal. A smile played on his lips and the way he stared into the glowing embers was like looking into a memory. He wasn’t talking about her but about someone he had loved once, maybe still did––perhaps that was why he seemed to have so much to say.

“By the time ye realize it, ye’re smack dab in the middle wi’out realizin’ how ye got there. Ye can trace yer path back and ye might come to ken the moment it happened, but ye canna always make yer way back out of it again… I dinna ken anyone tha’s chosen to go back to try to find their way out… at least, none tha’s succeeded.”

“You don’t think it will be possible to pass back through the stones?” Was it fear or hope that she heard in her voice.

Murtagh shrugged. “Dinna ken. Might depend on whether yer heart’s in it.” He looked over at her at last and she felt her face flush, grateful that the dying fire didn’t cast enough light for him to be able to see it.

“Who was she?” Claire asked, turning the conversation onto Murtagh. “The woman you couldn’t find your way out of loving.”

Murtagh looked away again and Claire was about to apologize for asking when he murmured, “Ellen MacKenzie. I doubt I was the first to love her––though, I loved her before Brian Fraser, having met her first… But he loved her the way she wanted… and needed.”

“Jamie told me about them,” Claire explained. “About the Gathering where they met.”

“Aye. Ye can see it, ye ken––no with yerself… no right away. But ye can see it in a man’s face if ye watch careful like… the moment it happens and he has to make a choice what to do next.”

“You saw it with Brian Fraser?”

Murtagh nodded. “Him… and others.” Murtagh reached forward with his dirk and poked at one of the larger pieces of wood, rolling it onto the other side. The smoldering bottom, exposed to the air but not the heat, faded to white ash even as smoke erupted from beneath as the untouched side began to burn.

“We’ve another two maybe three days till we reach the stones,” he informed her. “Best get what sleep ye can. We’ll be needin’ to keep a closer eye for Red Coats as we’re gettin’ nearer Fort William.”

Claire rose and left to join Frank in the tent. He was asleep on his side, his bandaged forearms laid gently one atop the other beside his head. She lay down and turned onto her side as well but with her back towards his.

I just wanted to share! I was with my college, walking in the parade at Pride Orlando again this year. There was only one booth selling asexual flags (they even had demi and gray pride stickers), many others didn’t, and some didn’t even know what the ace flag was. A random man asked me what the flag was and then asked me if I knew I was being “followed by a bunch of queers” (my awesome group of friends took it in stride).
But my favorite part of the day was during the parade. So many people saw me and wanted high fives from the person with the ace flag. I got hugs from people who didn’t even think they’d be represented in the parade. I cried with my fellow trans friends when I saw the group of parents marching with signs reading “i love my trans son” and “I love my lesbian daughter.” I cried even harder when I saw in the crowd “I love my asexual son.”
By the end of the night I had two gay pride flags and a trans flag in my sports bra and my ace flag around my shoulders, and I’ve never felt more proud.


Bucky Barnes Series
-Your attraction to the brooding Winter Soldier is instant, but when you overhear him talking badly about your appearance those feelings of desire quickly turn to hate.

(I’ll be starting a PERMANENT TAG LIST so if you’d like to be tagged in each fic that I write from now on MESSAGE MY ASK BOX or COMMENT ON MY MASTERLIST) 


Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Part Six- End.

You told Nat and Wanda everything that had happened that evening, hating the exchange of knowing looks between the pair that only deepened your sense of confusion.

“What are those faces for?!” You screeched, pulling at your hair. “What is going on here?!”

Nat shook her head and Wanda laughed into her hand. “It’s nothing, Y/N. Let’s just focus a minute here.” Wanda nodded and agreed. “Yes, you clearly don’t have the feelings that you thought you had for Steve, so the first thing you have to do is talk it out with him.” You looked at the pair of them, unable to hide the look of dread that ensconced your features. “It’s for the best, Y/N. It’ll get rid of any awkwardness between the two of you, and you know give you a clear head to think about any other feelings you might have for some people.. maybe-”

“Speak to Steve.” Nat cut off, shooting a warning glance at Wanda. You frowned at them, “What are you talking about Wanda? Any feelings I might have? I don’t like Steve, we just established that.”

Wanda smiled a small smile but spoke carefully under Nat’s watchful gaze. “It’s not Steve I’m talking about.” She giggled, watching your face transform into a picture of shock.

“Well I don’t like you either!” You spluttered, causing the pair of girls to explode into laughter. You groaned and let your face fall into your hands, having had no success in shedding a bit of light on the situation. “I’ll go speak to Steve.” You mumbled, hefting yourself up and traipsing away from the intrusive sounds of laughter.

You texted him to meet you in your bedroom in ten minutes and he responded with a quick ‘Ok’, so you busied yourself with tidying your room and making yourself look presentable. You forced down the rising feeling of nervousness that threatened to consume you by playing a bit of music in the background, and before too long there was a soft knock at the door.

“Come in.” You called, fiddling with the stereo and not paying Steve much attention as he awkwardly stepped, concealing something behind his back. You turned to face him with an uneasy smile, only to have it be replaced with a look of shock. As it wasn’t Steve at all- but Bucky.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice almost a whisper. Bucky cleared his throat and presented the bowl of freshly cut mangoes he’d been concealing behind his back. “I think we need to talk.” Your eyes flitted from the fruits to the tentative looking Winter Soldier as your mind whirred, thinking back on the conversation you’d had with Nat and everything that had transpired in the past few days. “This isn’t a good time actually I just asked Steve to-”

“Steve’s the one that told me to come.” Bucky said, interrupting you with a smile that wavered as he spoke. “And- and Nat.” He laughed, placing the mangos down on your lap. “Can I sit?” You nodded and watched, utterly transfixed as he sat down next to you on the bed. What the hell had been going on? Why did Steve tell him to come down? Why had Bucky been speaking to Nat about you? Why was the man you despised most in the world sat on your bed with you, smiling? And why were you letting him?

“I’m sorry-” you stuttered, “But what are you doing in my room?”

Bucky huffed and shoved a piece of mango into his mouth. “Shouldn’t tal wih mouf full.” He slurred, acting apologetic. You narrowed your eyes at his awful stall tactic but chewed on a mango slice as you waited anyway. The few seconds it took for Bucky to swallow the fruit seemed to be enough for him to collect his thoughts as he turned to you abruptly.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

You choked a little on the mango, taken aback by his question.


“I want to know- why did you take such a disliking towards me in the first few seconds you met me.” Bucky asked again, his eyes staring into yours which grew cold as you thought back.

“I really needed to pee.” You said, earning a confused look but not bothering to communicate your meaning. “But the ladies room was full so I hid in the guy’s bathroom and went about my business. But as I was about to head out-” Bucky groaned as you spoke, apparently recalling the events and conversation that occurred during that first day you’d met. “Being hidden in the cubicle, I was able to overhear every little thing you had to say about me.”

“Y/N, I-”

“Not that hot, nothing special- "bet 2 bucks I can get her to go home with me tonight.”“ You recited, holding Bucky in your steely gaze. "That was actually the first encounter we had. And I learnt a lot about you in those first few minutes that helped me decide how to treat you- how you deserved to be treated in those next few moments we’d meet face to face.” You finished, licking the sweet juices left on your fingers by the mango you’d just consumed.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Bucky mumbled, looking ashamed, which you found strange. “For what? It’s hardly like we’re best friends, you don’t need to apologise now. There’s no need.” Bucky winced at your words, grasping your hand in his- much to your horror- as you snatched it back. “What are you doing?” You hissed, standing up, ready to send him out your room.

“Y/N I like you.” Bucky breathed out, staring at you with such an intensity that the thought he was joking didn’t even cross your mind.

“What?” You repeated, for what felt like the thousandths time. “That makes no sense- whatsoever!”

Bucky groaned and rubbed at the back of his neck, matching your tone of disbelief. “I know! I know it doesn’t- but I do! I really fucking like you and it’s so goddamn confusing because I’ve never hated someone as much as I hate you too.”

“Ditto.” You interrupted without thinking, exchanging smiles with the nervous man before you, easing the tension ever so slightly. The next time he reached for your hand, you let him. You didn’t know why, but whatever was happening you were seemingly ok with it. You could feel his eyes on your skin, a thoughtful look enveloping his features as you grew sombre.

“I didn’t mean what I said back then.” Bucky sighed, pulling you nearer to him. “I was just being a jerk, I was trying to stop the guys from showing an interest in you and I kinda felt threatened by the way Steve looked at you. I was- I was trying to keep you all to myself but, but we both know how that turned out.” You laughed a little and he looked up at you, a hopeful smile dying to be released. “Kinda had the opposite effect, hu?” You quipped.

Bucky went to pull you close and wrap his arms around your waist, from where he was sat but you resisted. “I-I think this is-”

“A bit unexpected..” Bucky acknowledged. “I actually only just realised how-how I /felt/ for you rather, well, super recently. I think it took for you getting shot right in front of me to realise that if I lost you I would- I would freaking lose my mind.” You inhaled sharply at the revelation, noting how difficult it must be for Bucky to be opening up to you like he was, his eyes cast down and a red hue clouding his cheeks. “Talk about too little too late though, hu? But I- I visited you whilst you were out and Tony said- Tony said you’d be fine.. So I figured maybe I could give it a shot- pun not intended- at just you know, telling you how I felt at least. So I went down to the gym at the time you usually headed down there to do cardio and instead I saw-” this time it was your turn to groan, and you wrapped Bucky’s body in yours, making the move of intimacy he was too afraid to go for. His arms found your waist as you wrapped your hands around his head, playing with his hair from your standing position. “I saw Steve and you- kissing- and I thought it was too late but then you- and I almost- but Nat told me and and so I told Steve and they sort of arranged this whole thing and now.. here we are.”

“Here we are..” you echoed, twirling a few pieces of his hair in between your fingers. He looked up then, hopeful, and your heart skyrocketed in your chest, so loud that you worried he would hear it banging against your ribcage.

He whispered your name before you both leaned in and touched lips in what felt like an explosion of colour and emotion. You were quick to lace your hands in his hair, tugging moans of pleasure from his lips. You pushed him backwards and lay your body atop his on the bed, unthinking, but moved entirely by your intermingling sense of passion. His hands cupped your ass and pushed your closer towards him, causing you to arch your back. Your senses were dialled to a hundred and you were driven wild by the way he bit your lip and moaned your name, the hot and heavy breaths that were exchanged between kisses. The moment shared more intensity than either of you had experienced in any of your wildest embraces.

“I love you.” He gasped, pulling apart a moment to look you in the eye as he professed to you the ultimate truth. As you stared at him with your eyes wide and your lips swollen and your heart beating a mile a minute you realised what you had known all along, what everyone had known- and suddenly it all made sense.

“I love you too.”  

(I’ll be starting a PERMANENT TAG LIST so if you’d like to be tagged in each fic that I write from now on MESSAGE MY ASK BOX or COMMENT ON MY MASTERLIST)



tag list for this series:

tags crossed out didn’t work for whatever reason sorry y’all

@sebsmeatball@38leticia @purplekitten30 @softwhispers @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme@fandayo @mictapeandcoughdrops @aweways @barnes-and-noble-girl @b-l-u-e-g-h-o-s-t @stucked82 @likochkah @deeper-in-my-head  @bxhyx @harleyqueen7 @soldierplum @justreadingfics @christynjay @basicallybucky @bexboo616 @blazeshira @smile-sugar @bicepbucky @fairlylocalfairies @imamoose @ephemeral-high @cry-me-a-fkin-river @kennadance14 @irepeldirt @urwarriorangel @captainwinterwriter @sociallyimpairedme @ballerinafairyprincess @girlwith100names @minaphobia @anitavalija @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @itsagentromanoff @i-am-mina @bubble-dreamer123 @irepeldirt @kaiyaisbae @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @thiscuriouslymiss @dontfuckwithkezolas @courtneychicken @kennadance14 @5-seconds-of-sebastian-stan @kells212 @avengfulshawarma @demoncrypt1066 @jasura @amrita31199 @ibelongtodeanwinchester @plumsforbuck2016 @kozmicrock

s/o to @kells212 sorry you’re stuck in bed, this ones for you!

PERMANENT TAG LIST (aka best ppl in the whole world go follow them)

@plumsforbuck2016 @bicepbucky @amrita31199


Hey, guys! I’m finally uploading the master list. I will update it as uploads go up so all this blog’s works will be on here! Let me know if any of the links aren’t working or if I missed anything.

Smut is indicated when you open the link.


Luke Hemmings

Cowboys And Aliens

Slept In Last Night Clothes

First Time


Get Away   Part Two (Miss Missing You)

Two In One 

Drowning  Part Two (Hanging By A Thread)


Beautiful Goodbye 

Calum Hood

The Apology  Part Two (Never)  Part Three (Demise)  Part Four (Misleading Mistakes)  Parts Five And Six (Heaven Is Waiting And Tell Me Your Secrets)  Part Seven (Hurts Like A Car Crash)

Is This The Part Where We Kiss

All We Need 

The Worst

Never, Never  Part Two (Like I can) 

Every Cloud Has A Silver Lining  Part Two (Confrontations)

Leave Your Lover  Part Two (Not In That Way)

Get To Know Eachother

Fuck ‘Em Only We Know

Lost Boy

Talk Baby Talk  Part Two (Stone Cold)

If You Don’t Know

Blood Flow

Michael Clifford

Losers  Part Two (How Bad Can A Good Girl Get)  Part Three (Not Enough)


Too Close To Love You

R U Mine 

Prince And Princess

Red Lipstick Smudge


Anger Relief 

Good Morning 

Ashton Irwin


Harry Styles


What Happens In Vegas

Pairing - Reader x Jungkook [Taehyung is a main character as well]

Genre - Stripper Au

Word Count - 3284

Part 7/?

Warnings - There’s everything in this part, smut, fluff and angst.

A/n - A new part of The Assassin will be out Sunday finally. Thanks for reading! (:

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven  Part Eight Part Nine


Taehyung’s POV

Originally posted by cmtae

Taehyung knew he had screwed up. Not only had he been caught cheating, he had hit y/n, and that was shocking to even him.

Yes he had hit women before, but never y/n. He loved her too much to ever lay a hand on her. He was just so upset he couldn’t control his self.

He knew that he had no reason to be upset though. Y/n had been loyal to him. She listened to every word that he commanded, while he on the other hand was not loyal at all.

Stephanie was not the first. He had been cheating on her with several other women, including Zoe, who gave birth to his child.

Taehyung tried to call y/n. She wouldn’t answer his many calls and messages and he was worried. She had no family and no friends, except one. But he knew that after what she had discovered about Zoe and the drugs she wouldn’t be reaching out to her. Still he decided to call her.

“Taehyung oppa?”

“Have you seen or heard from y/n?”

“No, I haven’t why? Did she leave you?”

“It’s none of your concern. If she reaches out to you, let me know immediately.” Taehyung said before hanging the phone up.

A couple of seconds later Zoe was calling back.

“I’m going to tell her.” She said.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I’m telling y/n about our relationship and our child.”

“You may want to rethink what you just said.” Taehyung warned.

“I’ve thought about it and if I cant have you no one can, I’m telling her as soon as I can.” Zoe said.

“If you tell y/n you will regret it and this is your final warning.” Taehyung said before this time hanging up and throwing his phone.

Zoe was becoming a really big problem. She was like that annoying itch that you keep scratching. You think it’s gone but it keeps coming back. Y/n couldn’t find out about what Taehyung did with Zoe, she’d leave him for sure.

He decided he had to take care of Zoe. But he’d do that later. For now he needed to figure out where y/n was. After thinking for a few moments her remembered he had installed tracking software on her phone.

He retrieved his phone from the floor and started to locate her. He then discovered that she was in California. What could she possibly be doing there?  He thought.

Taehyung thought about it for a moment. He had no clue what she could have been doing there but he knew it couldn’t be anything good. He knew that he needed to go get his girl back. But first a trip to the Jeweler’s.

Jungkook’s POV

Originally posted by keepingupwithbts

Jungkook had said something that he hadn’t ever imagined saying after knowing someone for such a short amount of time.

He couldn’t deny his feelings for y/n though. No matter how hard he tried. He thought about her all of the time. He wondered what she was doing, if she was eating well and getting enough sleep.

He found his self thinking about her beautiful smile and the way her nose crinkled when she laughed at him.

He didn’t feel bad about what he had said, y/n deserved to know how he felt. And whether or not she reciprocated those feelings, he deserved to know.

“Jungkook.” She said as she traced her hands over his lips. “I feel the same way.”

Jungkook leaned down and kissed y/n on her lips taking in every second of her. She kissed back and the kiss grew deeper and more intense than ever before.

Jungkook couldn’t control himself, he craved her touch. He knew from the way he was attacking her lips, that it wouldn’t end well. The last time that they made out like this it ended with them almost having sex, something that they were not supposed to do.

He couldn’t stop though, and it didn’t seem like y/n wanted him to either.  He could tell from the soft moans escaping her lips. So he kept kissing her.

His entire body was now on y/n. He kissed her lips before disconnecting them and planted a soft trail of kisses down her neck.

He slid one hand under her shirt resting it on her waist. Y/n’s hands softly played in his hair as he continued to kiss her.

He then took his lips off of her and slid her shirt over her head revealing her naked breasts. He gaped at them for a while.

“So sexy.” He said before y/n pulled him into a kiss again wrapping her legs around him.

Soft, sweet kisses battled hungry, passionate kisses. Jungkook found his way to his favorite place again, it was her breast and he began to suck on them.

“Yes please.” Y/n moaned as he sucked more and more ravishingly.

He left her breasts and continued to kiss down her body, stopping at her center before placing a kiss on her clothed body. He then slid her shorts and panties throwing them aside and returning back to her.

He kissed her heat first before slowly sucking on the soft skin. He parted her lips so that he could have a better view and then attached his mouth to her heat without any warning and began to suck causing her to grab a hold of the sheets.

“Oh my god yes, that feels so good.”

“Do you like that baby?” Jungkook asked alternating from sucking it to licking with his tongue.

Y/n was too overcome with pleasure to reply and Jungkook decided to give her even more pleasure by sliding a finger inside of her pumping in and out. He looked up at her and knew that she like it so he added another finger.

Jungkook was intoxicated. He loved her scent, her taste, everything about this moment. He continued to pump in and out of her faster until he finally removed his fingers.

“Do you want my cock inside of you?” He asked as he started to take off his pants and then his shirt.

“Please, I need your cock so bad right now baby.” She replied.

Jungkook then released his harden member from the confines of his underwear. Y/n reached down to grab a hold of it pumping it fast with her hand.

When it was hard enough, Jungkook took it from her rubbing it over her clit to get it wet.

Y/n arched her body up to Jungkook’s and he knew she wanted him almost as bad as he wanted her.

So he decided to give her what she wanted. He aligned his member to her entrance and finally slid into her slowly.

He let out a groan as he was fully inside her, she was so tight around him so he gave her a minute to adjust to his fullness slowly pumping in and out of her until he couldn’t take it anymore and started to go full speed.

He was now going so hard and fast that she was scratching his back and moaning out all kind of expletives as he fucked her.

He bent down to kiss her continuing at the same pace. Y/n brought one of her hands to his chest that was glistening with sweat and she bit his lip before moaning loudly.

“I’m so close.” She said. And within seconds she was letting out a nearly silent screaming.

Jungkook continued to ride her through her orgasm, chasing his own as well. The sight of her face as she came and her walls contracting around him was enough to send him into his orgasm.

Before he finally collapsed on the bed next to her, exhausted. Y/n was still panting and so Jungkook pulled her closer to him and they both drifted off to sleep.

The next morning they woke up Jungkook took a shower and y/n joined him for a make out session.

They got out of the shower and started to dry off and then Jungkook started to get dressed.

“Are you going to work?” Y/n asked.

“Yes, I need to go in for a while. Do you wanna go with me?”

“I couldn’t do that could I?” She asked.

“My boss isn’t in today. Of course you can come with me, if you want?”

“I’d love too!” She replied throwing the towel aside and looking for clothes to wear.

They arrived to Jungkook’s job a while later. He lead y/n her hand in his to his office.

“I’m going to go to the restroom.” Y/n said once the arrived before walking off.

Within seconds Jimin was walking over to his desk, face in complete shock and thrill.

“Are my eyes deceiving me or is that the stripper from Vegas?!” He asked.

“Yes, that’s y/n.” Jungkook stated plainly as he powered on his computer so that he could get to work.

“Oh my. You’re dating the stripper? Wait… wait. Please don’t tell me that she’s the girl you were taking out on a date?” He asked.

Jungkook finally turned his attention to Jimin, he understood Jimin’s curiosity. He just wanted to answer any questions before y/n returned so that she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

“Yes that’s her. No we are not dating, technically.” He replied.

“Technically? Are you sleeping with her?”

“We may have possibly slept together.”

“So you actually had sex with her?!” Jimin asked eyes growing in size.

“Maybe but that’s none of your business.” Jungkook replied.

“You right, but it is her boyfriend’s.” He said causing Jungkook to sink back down to reality. “She does have a boyfriend doesn’t she?”

“She… yeah she does.”

“But you are going to continue to see her?” He asked.

“Jimin, I know it’s confusing to you. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to either of us as well. But what we do know, is that we both have strong feelings for each other. I can’t stop seeing her.” Jungkook finally admitted.

“I get it bro. You’re in love with a stripper.” Jimin added causing them both to laugh.

“She’s headed back over here please don’t call her a stripper.” Jungkook begged as y/n approached the two of them.

“Hi there.” Jimin said to y/n extending his hand for her to shake.

“Hello, Jimin right?” Y/n asked shaking his hand.

“Yes it’s Jimin. Wow you have a really good memory.”

“Yeah, I’m really good at remembering names. I guess it’s because I talk to a lot of clients at the club.” She replied.

“Oh yeah! You’re the stripper, right?” Jimin asked as Jungkook let out a small sigh of embarrassment.

“Her name is y/n.” Jungkook replied before she could.

“Yes I’m y/n, and I am the stripper you met at the club. You have a pretty good memory as well.” She said.

“Of course I’d remember you after the way you moved - .”

“Okay then Jimin, I think you need to go take care of some work.” Jungkook said placing his hand on Jimin’s shoulder to interrupt him.

“Ah yeah, I should. It was nice seeing you again.” Jimin said to y/n before finally leaving.

“You too.” She smiled back at him.

“Sorry about that.” Jungkook said as soon as Jimin was gone.

“Why are you apologizing? He’s cute.” She said.

“Because he kept calling you a stripper.” He said pulling up a chair for y/n to sit down in.

“I am a stripper.” Y/n said sitting down and taking her jacket off.

“Well yeah but, you are more than that.” He replied.

“Yes, but that’s how Jimin remembers me. It’s not like he’s ever seen me anywhere else other than the strip club.”

“That doesn’t bother you? Because your name is y/n, not ‘the stripper’.”

Y/n laughed a bit at this. “No. I mean once he gets to know he’ll call me by my name hopefully. But you know Jungkook, I really don’t think being called a stripper is a horrible thing.”

“Well if you’re okay with it then so am I.”

“Aw, you’re so cute getting all defensive for me.” She said.

Jungkook smiled at this and then remembered something she had just said minutes ago.

“Wait, did you say that Jimin was cute too?” He asked.

“Yeah, he is.”

“Wait so you really think he’s cute?”

“Yes, I do. But not as cute as you, of course.”

“That’s what I thought.” Jungkook said causing y/n to laugh and playfully hit him on the arm.

The next few hours consisted of Jungkook trying to get some work done. He showed y/n a little bit of what he does for a living and laughed quite a lot with her.

Although Jungkook really enjoyed having y/n here with him, it was a bit difficult for him to get work done with her right there. So they decided to leave early.

Jungkook treated y/n to an early dinner and before long they were back in the comfort of Jungkook’s bed.

“Do you have siblings?” Y/n asked Jungkook as she was cuddled in his arms.

“No, do you?” He asked.

“I have an older brother.” She replied.

“Are the two if you close?”

“No, not anymore. He tries to reach out to me but I don’t ever talk to him.”

“Why is that?” He questioned again.

“I don’t know, I just feel like I don’t deserve to talk to him I guess?”

“Why?” He wondered.

“I guess, It  goes all the way back to when I started stripping. My family was displeased to say the least. My mom was worried and my dad was upset that I had chosen something like that over being a lawyer. My brother, he was disappointed.”

“He told me that Tae was bad news, that he had heard stuff and I needed to stay away. Of course this only made me angry. I felt like they were all against me. So, I withdrew away from them all.”

“My parent’s would invite me over for dinner but I wouldn’t come, my brother would text me and I wouldn’t answer. I think I went a good two years without talking to them at all. That’s until I got a text from my brother. Telling me that mom and dad were in a wreck. Any normal person would have ran to their family, but not me. I found comfort in Tae’s arms and when I finally mustered up the courage to go see them in the hospital it was too late.”

“I’m so sorry baby.” Jungkook said sensing the distress in my voice as it cracked.

“I don’t know if my brother will ever forgive me, but I know that I’ll never forgive myself.”

“This is why I cant leave him. Jungkook you have a beautiful, caring family. You have friends that love and care for you. I have no one, but Tae.” She replied sitting up.

“That’s not true. You have me.” Jungkook said feelings a bit hurt that she hadn’t mentioned him.

“I know but, it’s difficult.” She said standing up and walking over to the window to stare out of it.

“What’s difficult? Y/n he treats you like his own personal property. He cheats on you and even put his hands on you.”

“It’s just complicated okay? It may be an easy decision for you. But it’s
hard for me.”

Jungkook was now standing behind y/n her arms were crossed and he realized that she was getting upset but so was he.

“If it’s really such a difficult decision for you to make then maybe we should end this.” He stated.

This caused y/n to turn around to face him in disbelief. “How could you say that so easily?” She asked.

“Listen.” Jungkook said walking closer to her and reaching for her hand. “If I had to choose, I’d choose you. If there were another girl, a job, a friend. Anything that I had to choose from it would be you every time.”

Y/n was touched and Jungkook could tell. She wrapped her arms around his waist and he held her tightly.

“Jungkook, I don’t want to fight with you. There’s something about me, something that I did in my past that only Taehyung knows. I’m afraid that you will hate me if I told you.”

“I could never hate you, tell me what it is.”

“I can’t right now. I promise I’ll tell you when the time is right okay?”

Before Jungkook could reply the doorbell rang.

Y/n’s POV

I waited in Jungkook’s room while he went to answer the door. He said he hadn’t been expecting anyone, so he didn’t know who it was.

As I waited in the room I heard the voice of who was at the door and to my horror realized it was my boyfriend.

How did he know where I was? What was he going to do when he saw me in Jungkook’s clothes?

I heard my name being called and realized that I needed to go out there. But I was afraid, I hadn’t seen Tae since he hit me and he had to be mad that I was with another guy.

I took once last glance in the mirror before slowly walking out of the bedroom and towards the front door.

Taehyung had been let in and he was staring at me as I walked into the room. I was having trouble reading him. He didn’t seem upset, he seemed hurt. Maybe even a little apologetic.

“Y/n, baby I’ve been so worried about you.” He said as he pulled me into a hug. I pulled away from him pushing him off of me.

“Please don’t.” I said.

“Can we have a second?” Taehyung said turning to face Jungkook who was staring at us.

“No I don’t trust you alone with her, not after what you did.” He answered.

Taehyung glared at him for a bit before looking back at me. “Tell him to give us a second.” He said.

“No I would prefer if Jungkook stayed here. Just say what you need to say.” I said crossing my arms.

Taehyung let out a deep sigh.

“Fine. Look y/n. I love you so much. That girl she means nothing to me. You hadn’t been having sex with me as often and when you did I felt like you weren’t there mentally. I let her flirting and my hormones get the best of me. I never wanted that to happen and Im sorry.”

“That doesn’t justify you hitting me.” I said.

“You’re right it doesn’t, at all. I went crazy momentarily and It’ll never happen again.”

“Was Stephanie the first one? How can I be sure that you aren’t sleeping around with other girls?”

Yes she’s the only one. And because I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you ever again. I love you and I want to be with you forever.“ Taehyung said.

He then got down on one knee and pulled something out of his coat pocket. I knew exactly what he was doing in the moment  but I just couldn’t believe it.

“What are you doing?” I asked switching my glances from him to Jungkook and back to him again.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know you’ll never forget what I did but I’m hoping this will make it up to you.”

Taehyung pulled the ring out of the box and my eyes widened at the sight. I stood there full of confusion and shock at the same time and was also thoroughly afraid for the four words that would come next.

“Will you marry me?”